The Dawn of Fury (37 page)

“A woman always knows,” said Bess. “She had a home with us, and I don't believe she would ever have left. Now she'll be with us always.”

“Thank you,” Nathan said brokenly. “She wanted ... very little, and God knows, that's all she ever got ... from me ..”

Cotton Blossom stood over Eulie and growled. Nathan had to restrain him so that Eulie could be taken away. When her body was placed in McQueen's buckboard, Cotton Blossom stationed himself beneath it and resumed his mournful howling. McQueen soon returned with a doctor whose name was never mentioned. The doctor only looked at the rider with the bloody shoulder and went immediately to Byron Silver. Kneeling, he raised Silver enough to probe his back. The doctor spoke.

“The slug went on through. Unless it damaged his vitals, he has a chance. But he's lost a lot of blood. Where will you be taking him?”

“To my place,” McQueen said. “We have a buckboard.”

“I'll dress his wound, then, and you can take some laudanum with you. I can have another look at him in the morning. Wrap him in blankets, keep him warm, and when he become feverish, pour whiskey down him.”

Quickly he cut away Silver's shirt, doused the ugly wound with disinfectant, and bound it securely. He then turned to the other wounded man, leaving McQueen, Nathan, and several of McQueen's friends to carry the blanket-wrapped Silver to McQueen's buckboard. McQueen drew a sharp breath when he saw the other blanket-shrouded body already in the buckboard. When they got Silver stretched out, McQueen turned away, cursing bitterly under his breath.

“Barnabas,” said one of his friends, “two of the sidewinders tried to run. We gunned 'em down.”

“How many were there?” McQueen asked.

“Four,” said Nathan, answering the question. “I got one of them, and I reckon Silver got one.”

“Nathan,” McQueen said, “I'm a damned old fool who ought to be gut-shot for allowing her to ride that horse.”

“Barnabas,” said Nathan, “if she could have been stopped, I'd have stopped her. It was her life, her way, and she died a winner.”

Bess drove the buckboard while McQueen rode his horse and led Diablo. Nathan followed with Silver's grulla. When they reached McQueen's place, Nathan and McQueen lifted Silver from the buckboard and carried him into the McQueen house. Bess had insisted on it, and turned down the covers to make the wounded Silver comfortable. Nathan removed Silver's boots and it was then that he remembered his promise to Silver. But that would have to wait. He had no intention of leaving Eulie in the buckboard, nor did Bess McQueen.

“Bring Eulie inside,” Bess said. “She's been staying here at the house with us. She can spend this last night in her own bed.”

Nathan and McQueen brought Eulie in and placed her on the bed in a back room that Bess had fixed up especially for her. Cotton Blossom trotted in and lay down beside the bed.

“I'd better put him out,” said Nathan.

“No,” Bess said. “Let him stay. His loss is as great as yours.”

Bess prepared supper, and after all that had happened, Nathan found he still had an appetite. As he ate, he told the McQueens the little he knew about Byron Silver and of his promise to Silver.

“I believe whatever he had planned to do depended on his getting forces together before Stumberg's Queen of
Diamonds
returns to New Orleans From St. Louis,” said Nathan. “I think it's time I had a look at whatever is hidden in Silver's boot.”

McQueen, being nearest the room where Silver lay, brought the boot and handed it to Nathan. Without difficulty he found the slit in the leather, and the first item he brought forth was the key Silver had stolen by wax impression. Besides the key, Nathan found only a thin strip of paper. When he had unfolded it, there were just two printed lines. They read:
Office of the Attorney General, Washington, D.C.

“God Almighty,” said McQueen, “a government man.”

“Yes,” Nathan said, “and now I know why he didn't talk about himself or why he worked for Stumberg.”

“That little piece of paper could have become his death warrant,” said McQueen, “and I wonder why he carried it at all? He could have remembered the address.”

“I don't know,” Nathan said, “unless he feared a situation such as this, where he had to depend on somebody else to make contact for him.”

“Contacting the attorney general's office could get you killed,” said McQueen. “Any message you send will likely fall into Stumberg's hands. From what I hear, he pays handsomely for information from any source.”

“This one won't matter,” Nathan replied. “It's a code, and there's only two words. Silver told me that and I'm to send it by telegraph, without a signature. The hell of it is, I don't know what to do after that.”

“I'd say you're to wait at the telegraph office,” said McQueen. “Those code words are to tell Silver's people where he is. Or in this case, where
you
are. There are Union soldiers in town, and they have a private telegraph.”

“That's sensible,” Nathan said, “and I reckon I'd better ride in and do it tonight. I can't believe Stumberg would leave everything in the hands of those bushwhackers. I'd be plumb disappointed in him if he didn't leave orders for Silver and me to be shot on sight, in case either of us survived the bushwhacking.”

“If you start now, you'll have all night for Washington to contact you. There must be a powerful reason for everything coming together at this particular time.”

“There is,” Nathan said, “and this key plays a strong part. It gives me an idea as to what Silver reckoned is about to happen tomorrow night. Whatever happens tonight, I'll be here in the morning to ... to say goodbye to Eulie.”

Nathan rode carefully, reaching town without incident. He remembered where the telegraph office was—he and Eulie had passed it on St. Charles that first day they had ridden into New Orleans. Entering the office, Nathan quickly wrote the Washington address on the form provided, following it with his two-word message. For a moment the little man in wire-rimmed spectacles studied it.

“Why, that's the same ...” His voice trailed off.

“The same what?” Nathan demanded.

“Nothin',” the operator said. “I meant to say you ain't signed it.”

“I don't aim to,” Nathan said. “Send it like it is. How much?”

“Eighty-five cents.”

Nathan paid, waited until the message was sent, and left the office. He would wait outside. While the telegraph man had cut himself short, Nathan believed he knew what might have been said. Prior to Nathan's message, the man had seen a similar one. Silver had never told Nathan why he'd been in town for three hours. Might he not have copied the key and telegraphed Washington? The little man in the telegraph office had been entirely too curious, hadn't he? Stumberg would no doubt know of one or both telegraph messages. Barring quick response by powerfully placed friends of Byron Silver, Silver's and Nathan's remaining hours in New Orleans were few. The contact came fifteen minutes later. A man in town clothes and heavy topcoat approached the telegraph office. He was smoking a cigar and he barely paused before the telegraph office. He spoke softly.

“Twenty-one?”

“Yes,” Nathan replied.

“Wait until the clock strikes eight. Then come to room 200 at the St. Charles. Knock three times, pause, and knock again.”

He walked on, allowing Nathan no time to speak. But Nathan had no desire to ask any questions until he was off the street. He mounted his horse and rode east along St. Charles. He was more than half an hour from knowing what this was all about, and he chafed at the delay. He considered going into one of the saloons for a beer, but that was asking for trouble. Finally he tied his horse to a hitch rail outside the St. Charles and walked across the street to a wooden bench before a darkened store. There he would sit until time to enter the hotel. At least he had the storefront to his back, and could see anyone who approached from across the street or from either direction along St. Charles. Finally the big clock struck the hour, and as the eighth tone died away, Nathan crossed the street to the hotel. He allowed his eyes to sweep across the lobby before mounting the stairs, and once in the hall, he looked both directions before approaching the door to room 200. Quickly he knocked three times, paused, and knocked again.

“Identify yourself,” said a voice within.

“Nathan Stone, friend of Byron Silver.”

Slowly the door opened and Nathan was virtually certain someone was back of it, probably with a gun. He stepped into the room and the door was closed. The man with the gun slipped it under his coat. His companion, who sat on the bed, was the same man who had contacted Nathan outside the telegraph office, and it was he who spoke.

“Who are you, and why did you send that telegram?”

“I'm the friend of a man who uses the name Byron Silver,” Nathan said, “and I did only what I promised him I'd do. I'm not saying another damned thing until I know who you are.”

“I'm Powers,” said the man on the bed, “and he's Grago. We are officers in the Union army. We are civilian dressed for obvious reasons. You say you are a friend of Mr. Silver. What do you know of his activities, and where is he now?”

“I know nothing of his activities,” Nathan said, “except that he asked me to contact you if something happened to him. The two of us worked together for a while as gunmen for French Stumberg, until we got on the bad side of him. Today we were caught in an ambush that we believe Stumberg planned. Silver's hard hit. He's been seen by a doctor and is being cared for in a place of safety.”

“Mr. Silver obviously trusted you, Stone,” said Powers, “and you have justified that trust by acting on his behalf when he was shot. We need a man like you, and we need him now, or all Silver's work will have been in vain. Just how far are you willing to go in bringing Silver's mission to a successful conclusion?”

“In that same house where Silver lies wounded,” Nathan said, “lies the body of the best friend I ever had. A friend who died in Stumberg's ambush. Does that answer your question?”

“Then I don't have to warn you that French Stumberg is utterly ruthless,” said Powers. “You said Silver told you little, but you must know
something
of Stumberg's activities, or he wouldn't be after you. Are you aware of his reason for being in St. Louis and of what is about to take place tomorrow night?”

“Only what I've guessed,” Nathan said. “Silver and I traveled only once to St. Louis aboard the Queen of
Diamonds
. There was trouble aboard while we were in St. Louis. Two of Stumberg's people died and one of the saloon girls escaped. Until now, that was the last time the Queen of Diamonds traveled to St. Louis. We never knew why.”

“I suppose you're in deep enough for me to tell you,” said Powers. “The girl who escaped—Trinity—is one of us. With her testimony alone, we have a case strong enough to hang French Stumberg a dozen times. Through contacts in St. Louis, we know he is about to deliver cargo—human cargo—into the hands of Mexican slave traders tomorrow night. White slavery. Are you familiar with the term?”

“Yes,” Nathan said. “I saw the cabins, with barred doors on the first deck of the
Queen of Diamonds.”

“That's a problem,” said Grago, speaking for the first time. “Somehow we must stop him short of international waters, but in a showdown, count on him to use the young women as hostages. What is your answer to that?”

“Exactly what Silver's would have been,” Nathan said, taking the key from his pocket. “Thanks to him, we have a key to those barred doors.”

“Great God,” said Powers, “we have a means of freeing the hostages!”

“Only if one of us can get aboard that vessel,” Grago said.

“I'm going aboard,” Nathan said, “but only if I'm allowed to do it my way. By God, it's my neck, and I give the orders.”

“Perhaps you'd better tell us what you have in mind,” said Powers. “This endeavor represents almost two years of undercover work, and we are in no position to relinquish control of it to an outsider.”

“I'm not an outsider, Powers,” Nathan said. “I have a stake in this that is stronger than yours. For starters, we'll need a steamboat.”

“We thought of that,” said Powers. “We have a government-owned packet. Go on.”

“We'll approach the
Queen of Diamonds
after dark,” Nathan said. “When I have freed the women from the lower deck, I'll send them over the side. You will pick them up. Then you will issue a challenge to Stumberg and crew to surrender.”